


Robins in the Rain

by ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: A lot of it ok?, AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always a badass, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, But only to Roy, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Damian Wayne is an assassin child, Damian Wayne isn't Robin, F/M, Gen, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Koriand'r is Starfire, Oliver Queen Being an Asshole, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Roy Harper, Red Hood and the Outlaws and Damian, and a badass, but he doesn't get one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-01-05 10:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap/pseuds/ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap
Summary: What if Bruce never discovered The Red Hood's identity? What if Bruce never found out about Damian?This is the DC AU you didn't think you wanted, or needed.Jason Todd, forgotten, cast aside turned his nerves to steel and stare to ice. He formed a team with Roy Harper and Koriand'r, taking up the identity of Gotham's Elusive Red Hood, Drug-Lord, vigilante extraordinaire! What happens when he needs to take himself out of the shadows with his team, a badass personal trainer who is also an OP alien princess, a male stripper with a daughter who has a penchant for trouble, and a baby-faced assassin to save Gotham? What happens when Jason has to learn what true heroes really look like?





	1. Perfect Paradise, Tearing At The Seams

The world didn’t trust the Red Hood.

That was fine, the Red Hood didn’t trust the world. He’d just leave, with a “fuck you” on his tongue and a shotgun in his hands. He’d seen how people behave. Socialites were secretly sociopaths with bigger bank accounts. Liars, cheaters, hypocrites with a code that means jack shit to rapists and murderers.  _ Heroes _ . What a funny word. Hilarious hypocrites, heroes. 

“I am a hero.” Said Superman as he slammed a man into a building full of people at one-hundred and twenty five miles per hour. 

“I am a hero.” Said Wonder Woman as she stared a man in the eyes and made him divulge his soul for the world to judge.

“I am a hero.” Said Batman as recruited child soldiers, loving them just to leave them behind. 

“And I am not.” Said the Red Hood as he shot a rapist, shot a murderer, shot an abuser.

“And I am not.” Said the Red Hood as he kindly picked up children and brought them to safety.

Because between safety and ignorance, heroes would rather let their streets be flooded with blood 

Red Hood isn’t a hero, and he's glad. 

 

* * *

 

Nothing is quiet in the Justice League Watchtower. Its always loud, vibrant, as superheroes should be. No fear, no terror, but a pillar of hope for society.

Him and ole Bats don't always agree.

But it didn't matter if they did or didn't agree, they were heroes, coworkers,  _friends_. They save the world and then go eat pizza. The sun rose and set, and he went home to blood and murder, and to his sweet Iris. To his nephew, his sidekick. Then rise, rinse, and repeat as the gears of society still turned, at least for another day. Thats what it was to be a  _hero_. Not fame, not beating up bad guys (despite the appeal), not running really fast and saving the  _whole wide world_. It's saving the abused and sparing the abuser, keeping the scale of justice even while saving as many as you can. If you sink to the level of the abusers, how are you different? How are you a  _hero_ if you shoot to kill, or shoot at all? 

Thats why theres such a problem with the mysterious Red Hood, who shoots to kill and  _is not a hero_. 

As much as Barry hated to admit it, this problem is black and white. Your a hero, or a villain and the Red Hood is  _not_ a hero. Killing is wrong no matter how bad of a person the victim is. Heroes are there to bring  _peace_ and  _hope._ Not to play God. 

And also, The Red Hood's actions have kept him in meetings  _all week_.

"I hereby call this Official Justice League meeting to order."

"Hot damn, we're official now. Here that Barry,  _official_."

"Ahhh, fuck off Hal."

"Language!"

"Don't get your undies in a bunch Supes, its workplace banter. Great for morale." 

"Doesn't matter. We have bigger problems than 'lack of morale,'" Bats scrolled down on one of the Watchtowers holo-pads. "We are currently hunting an unknown subject that calls himself 'The Red Hood.'"

"What do we know about him?" Asked Diana.

"Well Red Hood was an old allias used by the Joker, so it is possible that they have a connection."

"Working together?"

"He might have a vendetta." Said Hal.

"How so?" Asked Clark, his interest piqued. 

"Well, we've seen him work with Black Mask, and the other major drug dealers in Gotham. But he hasn't tried establishing a relationship with Batsies Rogues. And, if I was a Gotham drug lord, I would want some extra protection. Joker would be the most logical choice." Mused Hal.

"No." 

"No, what do you mean 'No?"' 

"I agree with Victor, why 'No?"' Diana cast her eyes towards Bruce, as he just defied the most logical theory. 

"Theres been new evidence." Bruce looked a shade paler than usual, his gloves gripped the side of the table slightly harder than necessary.

"We have reason to believe that The Red Hood is an associate with the League of Assassins." 

" _Fuck_."

"How.........?"

"I have no idea." Bruce looked down in defeat. "Not a fucking clue."

* * *

**Gotham City**

**3 years ago**

 

The only thing Jason knew was the rain. Cold, wet rain that has pounded every night for a week. Or what he thought was a week. he found a familiar comfort in the water, a constant in his inconsistent life. He remembered rain. Rain and Robins. While he ran, he ran in the rain. 

It felt like he was running for hours, away from his house- _Bruce's_ house-away from the pain. 

He always knew he'd be forgotten. He always was. Everyone forgets a street kid. No one remembers a Robin. Especially not him.

By God, there was a new Robin now. A replacement. The only to commemorate his work was a couple people in a prison they could escape from in a few days. Was that all he was worth?

Jason kept running. through the streets, through the market and through the rick neighborhoods of Gotham socialites. He ran until he got to his corner in Crime Alley. 

"Tough day?" Gertrude was a kind old lady, much like a bird. She lived in a nest of newspapers and needles, as she blindly navigated the world. In the six months she and Jason had been homeless neighbors, he had learnt that she was an ex-prostitute, now junkie who had seven kids. Three of which pull themselves out of the slums and went to college. Jason thought she looked incredibly thin for the amount of kid's she birthed, and when he voices it, she said: "Boy, you ain't  _ever_ comment on a woman's weight, you hear me?"

The woman today was knitting and then tearing apart the same scarf. The yarn was old and frayed, and its original crimson color was splotched with brown stains. 

Jason loved Gertrude.

"Hows your scarf comin along, Gertrude?"

"Oh, mighty fine, mighty fine. Boy, you avoided my question."

"Well, I am in Crime Alley."

"You damn right are boy. But you ain't using that excuse with me now, you hear? If I can get that looney Two-Face to answer me I can get you. talk."

"Well, I got some family in the richer side of town. They think I'm dead. Thought i'd go surprise em, show em I'm not, you know? And I walk up past their window, and there is a new kid, sitting his ass on my chair at the dinner table. They fucking replaced me Gertrude."

"Well, as I always say. Them rich folk be real assholes."

"Yes you do." Gertrude hmphed and went back to her scarf. "Night Gertrude!" Jason called, and went to his own nest of stolen blankets and curled up. As his eyes starte closing, his brain turned to lead. A deep ache filled his scull. In his dreams awaited only pain.

* * *

 

_"Jason, get over here." A deep voice rumbled, as the rain soaked their clothes and the air._

_"Oh, come on Bruce. It's the fucking rain, not an avalanche!"_

_"Language."_

_"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"_

_"Very funny, now get over here." Bruce's black cowls ears were lying flat against his head, as Jason's hair was slicked to his forehead. Bruce was motioning to the singular covered ledge in all of Gotham. "Now."_

_"Wait, just wait a minute." Jason peered down, there were two men over a single woman. She screamed. Jason jumped._

_It was a blur down the building, and slippery when he tucked himself into a role and landed. He snuck up behind the men and bashed their heads together. Punch after punch. There was blood on his knuckles, or tears. He didn't care though. Those men were the scum of society, the scum that mad this earlier childhood living hell. He kept punching even after the men's heads went limp._

_"You think its okay to rape a woman, huh?" There were tears on Jason's cheeks. He wasn't sure where they cam from. "Huh?! Is your own bitch not giving you some, huh?! HUH?! Answer me you fucking son of a bit-!" He was being pulled off. The woman was gone, and there were hands gripping his sides._

_"Jason!" It was Bruce. Bruce would understand. Bruce was **Batman**. It was his job to beat up scumbags. _

_"Come on man, let me go!"_

_"Go home." It was as if Jason had been slapped._

_"What?!"_

_"You heard me. Go home Jason."_

_"But-but, Bruce! Thats not fair, they were evil! I was jus-"_

_"You have until the count of three to be out of my sight. One."_

_"But, Bruce!"_

_"Two."_

_"Come on, dad, you wouldn't really send me away, would you?"_

_"Three." Bruce picked him up by his cape, climbed up to fire escape of the nearest building and set him down._

_"Leave." Jason watched as Bruce-no. As Batman's back retreated into the cold night. Without a Robin._

_It's funny, Jason realized. How much betrayal felt like getting stabbed._

* * *

Jason's head was on fire. A proverbial fire filled his senses, his vision was too bright and blurry.  _'When the sun come out_ ' he thought deliriously, as it was still night in Gotham. 

Jason was barely conscious enough to notice that he was moving....while lying down? There were hands on his back, poking, prodding. They stopped, and a voice-most likely whoever was carrying him-spoke.

"I think we got him, Mistress Talia." A hand-small and soft-snaked under his shirt, eventually just pulled up the fabric and exposing his chest. The sharp nails dug into his chest, around where he knew the weird J-shaped scar was.

"Oh," A softer, higher pitched voice preened. "Indeed we do."

 


	2. Oh, I'm Gonna Mess This Up, Oh, This Is Just My Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Jasons squad, Lian goes to a therapist and theres a nice little bonding moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say this Last Chapter, but both Chapter titles (Which I just added) are from imagine Dragons songs, Bad Liar and Shots

Jason was pretty-fucking-pleased that his landlord was a junkie. Honestly, despite how shitty the building was, his landlord-Kyle, a white boy name that  _did not belong in fucking Gotham_ -was this junkie that  _did not give a singular fuck_ about when you paid rent, or if you paid at all. The man was happy as long as his residents could get him a fix, which Jason could do. 

Ah, the life of an ex-Crime Lord, current assassin did have its perks. 

Anyways, Jason got a two bed one bathe apartment for cheaper than he should've. And, when Kyle was sober enough to ask, he has Kori and Roy to help pay rent! The joys of life.

The man flung open the shitty door, making as much noise as possible to announce his arrival.

"Drama Queen." Huffed the man on the couch, his red hair peaking up above the stained couch cushions.

"Get off my damn pull out bed. That shit was fucking expensive."

"I should know, because I paid for the couch for your sorry ass, with my  _job_."

"You're a male stripper, Roy."

"And a damn good one, thank you very much!"

"Thats not a real job!" Jason cried.

"Neither is a bar tender if you're underage! And you're not even a nighttime bartender. You're a fucking  _daytime bartender_. You're the guy all the cheating husbands go to when they wanna bang during the day!" The red head looked over to the doorway, where a young girl was standing. "Lian, you heard none of this."

"Dad, I've heard worse." The girl's fiery hair was in a remarkably good braid. Ah, that meant that Kori was here. 

"Umm,  _where_?"

"I go to school, don't I?"

"What!? I'm paying good money for you to go to Gotham Academy!"

"You're not paying anything, Dad. You hacked the computer system, remember?"

"Oh yeah I did." Lian rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. In her hands were a package of Skittles. She left, presumably to go and eat that as her breakfast.

Jason chuckled, "You know, I still can't get over the fact that you have a seventh grader."

"It's been at least six months!"

"Yeah, and she's twelve."

"So?"

"You're  _twenty_ - _six_ Roy."

"Okay, so I may have made some questionable decisions in my Speedy days. Look, Jason, I'm trying to be a good Dad."

"I know you are. Now get off my couch. I don't want your bare ass-cheeks where I sleep."

"You just wish you were a male stripper too."

"No I don't, I've seen you with too many thongs." A tall woman walked in, her muscular body covered by a t-shirt and jeans. 

"Good morning, Jason, Roy."

"Babe."

"Whats up Kori?" The woman looked confused.

"What do you mean, 'what is up.' What is up is very clearly the sky, Jason."

"It's just an expression, Kori."

"Oh." Kori glanced at the clock. "We should be heading to work Jason. And doesn't Lian need to get to school. Roy, you may want to put on 'day clothes' to escort her to the Academy." Kori slipped on her sunglasses, and picked up her duffle bag that was next to the run down table. Lian walked in adjusting her tie. 

"Nah, it's fine. I can walk to school without Dad."

Roy shifted to look at her. "You sure honey?"

"Yeah, I gotta run. By Dad, Jason, Kori!" And Lian ran out the door. Kori spared another glance at the clock mounted on the wall. 

"I beat be leaving too, I have a client at eight. Goodbye Jason and Roy."

"Bye babe!"

"See you later Kori." The two boys gazed at the now-closed door.

"Damn, I wish I could be a personal trainer."

"Ditto. Kori got the good job."

* * *

 

Lian did not give a  _fuck_ about the rich bitches of Gotham Academy. 

Like,  _honestly_ , they walked around with their Gucci bags in one inch heels.  _One inch doesn't make you cool!_ She wanted to scream at them.  _It only makes you desperate!_ But alas, Lian had entered the age of boyfriends and training bras. The dreaded seventh grade. But she didn't need designer blouses or too short skirts to survive this year. All she needed was spite and spite alone. And if there was one thing she inherited from Roy Harper, it was the ability to stupidly stubborn.

"Hey Lian!"

"No."

"How was your weekend."

"Go away."

"Well my weekend was great! My Mom bought me and my sister water skies and we spent the entire weekend wiping out!" That was the vibrant boy that worked so hard to be friends with her, who was oblivious, in the two months she'd been there, to her attempts to steer him off. His name was Oliver, and he was scrawny, with large brown eyes and olive skin. Lian secretly found it hilarious that  _Oliver_ had  _olive_ skin. But she hated the name, and who could blame her? From what she heard of about the falling out her Dad and her grandfather had she had come to resent anything that reminded her of the  _Green Arrow_. and that included the name Oliver.

"Cool. I'm leaving. Don't follow." And Lian stormed off, as she usually did. She was a hurricane of pettiness and rage. Her dad would be proud. 

She picked up her pace when she walked past the girls bathroom, where the Condescending Cheerleader's met together to sharpen their claws and gossip about their prey. Even just thinking about them made Lian shudder. She had almost made it out of the danger zone when Kelsey Johansson stopped her.

"You know," Her grating voice rang out, "you would look  _great_ if you went and got a spray tan."

"Cool, I'll think about it or whatever."

"No, I'm serious! You've looked so washed out and pale since you've been here!"

"Kelsey, I'm a natural redhead. I'm  _always_ pale." Kelsey's duck lips curled into a sneer.

"Aren't we a little young to be mocking are classmates like in  _High School Musical?_ "

"Aren't you  _a little young_ to have gotten Botox _?"_

"You take that back,  _Lian Harper_!"

"Nope." Lian tried to keep walking, honestly she did. But one of the Banshee's shrill screams stopped her in her tracks. 

"Oh there she goes! Walks away! Just like her daddy!" Lian turned around, fire in her eyes. She lunged for the girls neck and slammed her up against the locker. 

"What.  _The fuck_. Did you just say about my father,  _bitch_?" 

"I said he was a coward!" Kelsey gasped.

"And why," Lian spat in the girls face, "is my dad a coward?" Lian loosened her grip round the girls neck. 

"You're poor aren't you,  _Lian_. You have to be a coward to be poor. My daddy says so."

"Well  _your daddy_ can shove that up his ass."

"Humph! I can't believe you would say something like that! It's true and-" Lian swung. Her knuckles collided with flesh and she kepts punching. 

" _MY FATHER IS THE BRAVEST MAN I KNOW, BITCH!"_ Lian punched her harder, and harder, and  _harder_.

" _MY FATHER IS NOT A COWARD YOU HOE! YOU FUCKING HOE!"_ There was blood on her knuckles. It was.....sticky. Hotter than Lian expected. Her vision turned red. She hit harder, like a drum. A rhythm formed as she beat that girl to holy Hell. One, two, three, one, two, three. One tw-

There were hands on her, Lian screamed. "Break it up! Break it up!" It was Mrs Goranson, the tough science teacher in the room down the hall. "Detention!" She cried. "Detention for the both of you!" Kelsey was moving, a blue blob in front of a sea of blue blobs.

"But, thats not fair! Lian beat me up! Why do I get detention, she's the unhinged one!

'While Ms Harpers actions are immature and ill advised, she certainly did not choose to 'beat you up' for fun. Mr Hanfield, please escort Ms Johansson to the nurses office." A portly boy offered his hand to Kelsey. Mrs Goranson stared into the crowd. "What, is this entertaining to you? Shoo, get to class!" The students fled like lab rats. The woman turned her steely gaze to Lian. "As for you, Ms Harper. Your action's were impulsive, irresponsible, and immature! I will be escorting you to the principals office this instant!" And with that, the towering woman was off, her heels clicking on the once-pristine marble floor. It was as if she expected Lian to follow along like her little duckling.  _Well_ , thought Lian as she tiredly trotted after the teacher.  _I've done fucked up this time_. 

* * *

"Assaulting a student? You are aware that fighting is strictly prohibited in Gotham academy, correct Ms Harper?" Principal Dunhaven stared down at her. Lian blushed.

"I need a verbal answer, Ms Harper." Lian blushed harder and muttered "yes."

"Not to mention that this seems completely out of character for you. I would've expected this from maybe one of our other students, but a  _scholarship student_? Never would've crossed my mind." Lian was determine to stare at her spot on the floor until she died. Because of this, she didn't see Dunhaven's gaze soften. "Ms Harper, you are aware that you can talk with any troubles you have, school or social, with the staff, correct?"

"Yes."

"Good, because after school I'm booking you an appointment with the school councilor. Your lunch detention is with Mrs Goranson. You are dismissed."  _Great_ , though Lian.  _Just an hour wasted as an adult told her what she already knew-that she was fucked up_. Lian stood up, trying to find the scraps of her dignity so she could walk out with her pride loosely intact. 

As she was halfway out the door, Principal Dunhaven called out to her. "Oh, and Ms Harper? Your father _will_ be notified about this incident."

* * *

The rest of the day passed boringly. Or as boringly as a day can pass as everyone was gossiping about one of the few fights that took place in these halls. Oliver pestered her bout it all the way through Advanced Literature.

"Your so cool Lian! Beating up Kelsey! That-that bitch!" Lian almost wanted to laugh about how foreign 'bitch' sounded on his tongue. Instead, to avoid any further drama she said: "Thats great."

"Yeah! Everyone thinks your so cool because you stood up to Kelsey. Or maybe not everyone. I'm not sure, I don't want to speak for the class as a whole, but  _I_ thought it was pretty cool!" 

Lian struggled through Chemistry as Mrs Goranson wouldn't take her eyes off her. She was like a hawk stalking it prey. 

Lunch detention went smoothly, she just cleaned up some desks as Goranson tutted in the background. 

All in all, besides the fact that she beat up a girl, she was having a pretty decent day. That is until the final bell rang, the bell that she had been dreading ever since her talk with Dunhaven. She would have to go to the school councilor. And she couldn't just  _skip_ , that would only get her in more trouble. So Lian swallowed her fear and trekked to the counseling center. 

It looked plain enough. Stereotypical heavy wood and metal door. There was a little sign next to it that read 'Counseling Center!' with a peeling smilie face sticker haphazardly stuck to the side. She opened the door. 

There was a front room, with the cheap padded chairs the public schools would save for the teachers.  _Well, now I know where the tuition I'm not paying goes to_. There was a lady sitting behind a desk. Mid thirties with a blonde ponytail and glasses, she looked like every schools therapist. The lady looked up and she broke into a smile, each tooth straight, white, and tall.

Lian wanted to hate the woman. 

"Lian Harper, right?" Lian sort of grunted in response and shuffled behind the lady into the back room. 

There was a long desk and- _Goddamnit_ -more of the cheap chairs. The name tag on the desk was obviously handmade, with a rainbow of colors and neat handwriting, it read 'Ms Anderson.'

"Have a seat." Ms Anderson phrased it like a request, but Lian knew it wasn't. She flopped on the chair, as impolite as possible. 

"So, Ms Harper, how was your day?"

Lian couldn't help but give the lady attitude. "Don't you already know that,  _Ms Anderson_." The woman looked mildly surprised for just about a second before recomposing herself.  _Good_ , thought Lian,  _I'm not just some rich bitch complaining about daddy._

"Indeed I do, Ms Harper, but I want to hear  _your_ version of events." 

"Don't call me that." Lian muttered.

"Call you what?" Ms Anderson asked. 

"Cut it out with the 'Ms Harper' shit. I'm twelve not forty two."

"Oh." Ms Anderson looked at her. "Well I always did think that was too fancy for school relations, don't you think? My name is Andie."

"Your parents named you Andie Andrews?"

"Yup. Oh, go ahead, laugh. If I could survive high school with this name, I can survive you." Lian hated to admit that she was actually  _enjoying_ herself. 

"So, what happened today, Lian?"

"Well, you see........."

* * *

 

Lian was there for a whole fucking hour. She and Andie talked about everything, from what her favorite ice creak flavor, to what she heard about the falling out between her dad and Oliver Queen. She had fun. Lian wondered if that was what having friends was like. She snorted, Kelsey and her group of condescending cheerleaders would get a kick out of her only friend at schooling being the therapist. 

When she walked out of the building, she found her dad waiting outside. Silent. That was never a good sign. 

They walked the six blocks to the apartment in tense silence. That must mean her dad was angry. It was rare when Roy Harper was mad, but when he was, Lian remembered it. And it wasn't the anger that she would remember either, that would die quickly and softly, it would be the soul shattering disappointment he had for her. 

It reminded her of darker days, when her father was in the brunt of his addiction and Lian would come home to him crying on the couch. 

"Oh, Lian baby." He said once. "I miss your mom."  _Me too dad_. "Your mom was the best, but she had the damndest temper. Now Lian, I won't ever stay mad at you, God knows your mother has enough anger for all three of us. But I can't say I won't be disappointed."

She disappointed him. The hiked up the stair of their apartment building, opened their door, and Lian beelined for the couch. If she was going to feel bad, she might as well do it in comfort. 

"Fighting Lian?  _Really_?" Here it comes. "Especially  _now_? Lian, I'm very disappointed in you." It was.....weird to see suck a serious look on her dads face. Iit made her squirm. "Why Lian,  _why_? Why did you think it was a good idea to go punch that girl!?"

"Well, you see-"

"No! No Lian, there isn't a good excuse for beating up whatever her name was. You need to just walk away!" He stomped around for a few minutes, eventually joining a stiff Lian on the couch.

"I love you Lian, you know that?"

"Yeah dad, I do."

"Now... how hard you punch that girl?!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whats up guys! I bet you weren't expecting this after last chapter! (Honestly, me two) but this is relevant, I think. Either way, please comment on you thoughts, ideas (Theories anyone?) and as always!
> 
> Have a decent day!
> 
> -Spice


	3. And The Cards All Fold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Justice League inches a tiny bit closer in the investigation, we meet a detective, and some more bonding with Roy and Lian :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles from Imagine Dragons song Demons ;)

The Justice League wasn't getting anywhere with the Red Hood.

It was...embarrassing, frankly. Here Clark was, on the best super team in the world, and they only have conflicting clues and circumstantial evidence on a Crime lord? What? Well, ex-crime lord, vigilante. 

"Okay, so this is what we know," started Arthur.

"The Red Hood is a vigilante." said Hal.

"He has an unknown connection to the Joker." Chimed in Barry.

"He has associates. We do not know how many or how dangerous." Bruce growled.

"And he has a mysterious connection to the League of Assassins." Finished Diana. Clark thought it was kind of funny. The Justice League has brought down Warlords in hours, Alien invasions in maybe a day. But this? A young up and coming crime-lord with an old Joker alias? It should take minutes. Not weeks.

Barry was scrolling through on the Holopad.

"Guys?" The rest of the team turned their heads towards him.

"I've found something."

* * *

Detective Hannah Davis of the Gotham City Police Department was utterly _done_ with this superhero-supervillain bullshit. She dealt with it a school, she dealt with it at college. She dealt with it while trying to set up insurance and now, she dealt with it at work. 

Now, she's not  _complaining_ , those idiot villains keep her employed. But it would be nice to go a month without an Arkham breakout. For the great state of New York to get the sticks out of their asses and the pipes out of their mouths and try to  _deal_ with the shithole that is Gotham. She knows that their neighbor, Metropolis, gets more funding because oooh, aliens! But instead of vaguely threatening extra-terrestrial lifeforms, Gotham has killer clowns and mutant plants. 

Hannah wonders if the old New York had to deal with this shit. 

It's not like she couldn't  _handle_ it. She could handle it. She could handle anything, thank you very much. But that didn't make it any better when the caped crusader and his circus pals landed on the police rooftop at eleven pm. (What? She was working on a possible serial rapist, and that took importance over things like  _family_. Plus, her kids were in high school. They'd be fine.)

So Hannah trudged up to the fire escape, and entered the cold, stormy night.

She needed more coffee.

* * *

Hal didn't care how many lives the Red Hood had saved. He was a murderer.

Mass murderer at that. 

A detective met them on the roof, which is good, because he did not know what he would do if no one was in the building. Or if no one heard them. Somewhere in the back of Hal's mind wondered if Batman's just been left on the roof until a janitor found him, and Bruce was like "Bring up your boss!" 

The idea of Gotham's Dark Knight was a strange one. 

Anyways, the detective was standing in front of them. 

"So, why may I ask, is there not  _one_ , but  _seven_ superheroes on the police building at eleven pm?"

Bruce's impassive face stared at the woman's. "Is Detective Davis here?"

The woman grinned just a little bit, as if she had heard a funny joke. "You're looking at her." Oh, thats why she was grinning.

"We're hear to ask you about a report you made on a crime about one year ago?"

"Well, buddy, you're gonna have to be more specific. As you should know, Gotham doesn't really have a resting crime rate." It was blink-and-you miss it, but Hal  _swore_ he saw Bruce chuckle at her. 

"Mind comin' inside?" 

Bruce nodded, and the League descending into the station.

* * *

Lian thought homework  _sucked_ , honestly. 

It was even worse with bruised knuckles. Her dad's disappointment may have been uncomfortable, (because,  _by God_ she just wanted her dad to be proud of her. It didn't help when she fucked up and punched a bitch) but the constant ache in her fingers was starting to become  _unbearable_. 

When she told this to her dad he just said "thats why you don't beat people up,  _Lian_." Lian though it was an inappropriate to point out thats what he did his entire childhood. But because Roy Harper is a nice dad, he got her ice anyways. 

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah Lian?"

"Do you perhaps know anything about the Great New York Split of nineteen-forty one?"

"I have  _no_ idea. Check your textbook." Lian groaned, the history textbooks were so thick they  _had_ to weigh at  _least_ fifty pounds. But she reached into her bag and pulled out the paged monstrosity, and flipped to her chapter. It read: _"The Great New York Split of 1941 was a world shaking event for the American civilization. Not much is known about why the city split, but historians can accurately say it was because of the crime and population rates after the Great Depression. The Great Depression ended in 1939,  and the Split was one of many after affects. New York had a significant food storage in the later years of the Depression. Due to the shortage, the Boroughs Queens and Brooklyn got significantly more goods than those of Staten Island, Manhattan, and The Bronx. This created tension between the Burroughs, resulting in Queens and Brooklyn combining into one Borough, the current city known as 'Metropolis'. The Bronx and Manhattan's crime rates grew exponentially, and the boroughs were being filled with factories to try and employ their citizens, because the two boroughs homeless rate skyrocketed to nearly 30% during the Depression. Gang violence broke out as people fought for food. But then, on December 7th, 1941, three bombs sent from Japan, with a similar one headed towards Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, hit Staten Island killing over 400,000 people. A high majority of Staten Island were dead. Many historians believe that was the turning point of when The Bronx and Manhattan combined into the current city of Gotham."_

"Well damn."

"Language, Lian."

"Dad! Look at this!" Lian shoved her textbook under his nose, surprised at the violent history of old New York. 

"Well damn."

" _Language_ father."

"Oh,  _haha_ , very funny. What even is your homework?" Lian groaned again, school was difficult. 

"It's a project in Social Studies about an event that effected Gotham. So I thought, why not the creation?"

"You and twelve other kids."

"If it ain't broke...." Lian trailed off when she felt her phone buzzing.

"Who's that?"

"Some kid in my class. Keeps telling me on what he's doing his project on." Her dad peered over at her text messages.

 **Kid in my class:** Hey Lian! What are you doing your project on?

 **Kid in my class:** I'm thinking about doing mine on Superheroes

 **Kid in my class:** Like Batman

 **Kid in my class:** Do you about Batman?

 **Kid in my class:** I know you're not from Gotham

 **Kid in my class:** I mean, OF COUSE you know of Batman though. He's like everywhere

 **Kid in my class:** Actually, I might do mine on The Red Hood

 **Kid in my class:** You probably don't know of him, but he's this hitman I guess? Who's also a crime boss

 **Kid in my class** **:** It's complicated I guess

 **Kid in my class:** The cops think he killed a bunch of people down in Crime Alley

 **Kid in my class:** One sec, let me see how many

 **Kid in my class:** 113, damn

 **Kid in my class:** Yeah, the JL's in town and they think it's him

 **Kid in my class:** They actually have a bunch of clues on this guy

 **Kid in my class:** Thank God for the first amendment, am I right?

 **Kid in my class:** Oh crap, thats my mom

 **Kid in my class:** Oliver is OUT

Lian was staring at the screen, so she didn't notice her dad paling behind her.

"I mean, it's this kid named  _Oliver_ who's in like, all my classes. He thinks we're friends for some reason. But like! He uses  _full sentence structure_ when texting. Who does that?! Well, I guess Kori,  _but thats not the point_ , right Dad? Dad?" Lian looked over, at her paler-than-normal father.

"I need to call Jason."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY HELLO THERE!?
> 
> This story has been sooooo much fun to write, Oh my God. I'm not even that deep into Plot and Character yet. And over 500 hits? In less than a day?! Crap, I might faint.
> 
> Thanks for the OC's from everyone who sent them in, I think I'll put them all into the story. I'll find a way.  
> You know, I didn't mean to spend this much time from Lian's perspective. But I like it too much so lets roll with it. Trust me, more Backstory coming soon. 
> 
> Share any theories, ideas, or thoughts in the comments! because i'm bored and lonely and this is this the only bright constant in my life. 
> 
> On that happy note, tell me what your favorite line so far has been. Mine is "'You're not paying anything, Dad. You hacked the computer system, remember?"'
> 
> As always, have a decent day!
> 
> -Spice
> 
> PS I feel like I should mention I have an irregular (occasionally (Always) super fast) update schedule, so I don't Beta or edit my work. You read the first draft because I'm a lazy teenager. I apologize for spelling/grammar errors, I just don't have time to go over the chapters :(. But I can say this:
> 
> No Beta we die like Jason
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (I apologize for that too) :D


	4. I Wage My War on the World Inside, I Take My Gun From the Enemy's Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like ANOTHER flashback, am I right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MENTIONS OF PAST RAPE! Not graphic, but it's mentioned. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Imagine Dragons.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

There was nothing better than the rooftops of Gotham at night.

Not the guns, or the death, or the murder, or the blood. Not the screams, or pain, or the abuse. No, Jason loved the honesty of Gotham. Gotham was never the underdog, it was the lowest of the low and they  _knew_ it, Gotham  _knew_ about its absurdly high violent crime, hell,  _all crime_ rate and the residents wore it on their sleeves. Who the fuck needed a "high school underdog" when you wore loser on your bleeding sleeves?

"Look at us!" the city screams at night. "We are survivors!"

This was Jason's city, with Jason's pain, and Jason's childhood. Gotham was a rallying ground, and Gotham rose above the blood and gore to create a culture that was  _beautiful_.

Because sometimes the blackest night was the prettiest.

* * *

**Gotham City**

**6 years ago**

Jason thought that there was nothing better than being Robin. 

Here he was,  _The_ Robin! A caped crusader, a vibrant vigilante, Batman's  _partner_. (The press called him a sidekick, but Jason knew that Bruce needed him as much as he needed Bruce. Not that either of them would admit that.) There was nothing better than saving the life of what could've been  _him_ , to pass along the safety and generosity Bruce gave him to the people who needed it most. Jason thought there was nothing better than being Robin until someone died.

It wasn't like Jason  _hadn't_ seen a dead body before. Of course he had, he grew up in the worst part of  _Gotham_ for Hell's sake. He once held a gun up to a man's head and pulled the trigger. When you kill a man, or see a dead man, the world slows down. It's like moving through maple syrup, a lag in your brain. Jason tried his  _damnedest_ to erase his brain lag, and keep moving. After all, a dead man and a dead child is worse than a dead man and no witnesses. 

It was different know that he could've prevented it. Or was supposed to prevent it, because wasn't that his  _job_? He needs to suck up the snot and tears face it like a man. Like a  _hero_. Like Batman would.

It didn't work.

Officer Jenna Darlius died three miles away from Jason, where he was chasing down the last of The Scarecrows thugs. He looked at the ME, she died from suffocation, with blunt force trauma to the head, neck, and spine. Part of the roof collapsed on her, buried her  _alive_ , while Jason was playing around and toying with his newfound freedom and responsibility.

She would still be alive if he hadn't. She would still be alive if he was faster.  _Her husband wouldn't be widowed if he'd done his **fucking job**_. 

It's funny, how no one ever demonizes guilt, but it eats people alive. 

At the police memorial, Jason lost it. Right next to Bruce, staring at the setting sun painting the sky red. He cried harder than he should've, because he'd seen dead people before and it never fucked with his emotions like  _this_. In telling this story, Jason mused it was because this death wasn't a nameless casualty from his street days. Officer Darlius corpse was needless collateral damage. It was always on the news, how hero and villain fights caused so much collateral damage-buildings, homes, and lives. What the news stations  _didn't_ say was how much it dug at you, like a knifepoint. Pressing hard until penetrated, with blood gushing out of the stab wound messily and painfully.

Jason could've  _saved_ her, and he wouldn't have a proverbial knife digging into his soft stomach flesh.

It was even worse, because when he started openly  _sobbing_ at the funeral, Bruce noticed. Bruce  _always_ noticed. He silently slithered his hand across Jason's back, and pulled him in for a half hug. Jason cried harder

"He-hey Bruce?" Jason's eyes and nose were still rivers, his face uncharacteristically solemn. 

"Hmm?"

"Does-does it every g-get any easier?" Bruce looked at him for a long time.

"In Gotham, we grieve," Bruce said. "We cry, that's what makes up Gotham because that's what makes us  _human_. It doesn't get any easier, we just buy water resistant fabric to hide the stains."

Here in Gotham, we cry in silence. We cry alone. But we all cry, because we're all human. 

* * *

 

The rooftops were his home, Jason supposed. A Robin on a rooftop in the rain. Thats who Jason  _was_. He breathed in the pelleting water like a drug, addicted to the realness of his oceans falling from the sky. 

It was a slow night for Crime Alley, and a slow night was a good night. The Red Hood stopped two muggings, an assult, protected people in a drive-by, and stopped one of the few convenience stores from being robbed. There wasn't much crime.

Speaking of which....

The shop keeper of one of the  _few_ honest restaurants was barreling down the street yelling at this red-headed kid. 

"Ei, pare! Pare!" The shopkeeper had to stop and catch his breath. Jason jumped and rolled next to him.

"Yo, Aleixo! What's wrong man?" Aleixo panted.

"That-that kid! He stole-he stole my last pack of condoms!" He gasped. "Porra do diablo! I'm too old for this." Jason nodded, and sprinted after the red head.

* * *

 

It wasn't long before Jason tackled the boy. 

Around fifteen, skinny, scrawny kid. His light eyes and red hair made him stand out.

"Hey kid, you tryin to get some tonight or what?" The boy turned his head towards Jason slowly, horrified. "You know, it's considerably harder than you might imagine to get laid in jail." 

"I-it was a joke! I'll take them back! I'll take back the fucking condoms! Just, please!  _Please_ don't kill me!" Jason looked at the boy. 

"Your mom a prostitute?"

The boy snarled, "So what?"

"Not judgin kid, so was mine. You need those so she'll stop poppin out mini you's every time an asshole forgets to keep it outside, right?" The boy nodded slowly, still terrified. Jason sighed.

"Well, it's your lucky day!" He pulled out his cash stash for situations like this. "I got enough to pay for 'em. But next time, you know Aleixo keeps a pile for those kinda things. Completely free. Ask first, got it?"

"Yeah..yeah. Can I go now?" Jason looked him down. Dirty and starving, this kid probably hadn't eaten in days.

"You goin back to some box or shit?"

"So what if I am?" The boy crossed his arms to try and seem tougher, his should, which were  _barely_ covered by his threadbare jacket, were quivering. Jason wasn't taking that for an answer. 

"Well, it's vacation day, kid. Come with me."

"Wha-what?"

"You heard me, get your ass over here. I'm introducing you to a friend."

* * *

 

The boy's name was Andrey, and his friends called him Smoke.

"You have a codename at fifteen?"

"Sixteen."

"You're are _one_ scrawny ass sixteen year old."

"Rather be that instead of a Disney Jock."

"But you  _somehow_ have a codename?"

"So do you,  _Red Hood_." 

And Andrey was surprisingly kind. He stepped over a box-nest, and didn't even snag one of the loose blankets, left lying around stupidly by the owner. That was more than what Jason could say about how kind he was on the streets. 

They pulled up to a warehouse.

"Here we are!" Jason shoved open the door. Inside sat  _at least_ a hundred kids, maybe more. "Welcome to the Unofficial Crime Alley Sub-18 Homeless Shelter!" 

"That's a shit name."

"So is  _Smoke_ but am I complaining? No!" 

" _What_ , no! That name is bad-fucking-ass, thank you very much!" A group of six year olds ran up to them.

"Hoodie!"

"Oh, what's up Marissa?"

"My mommy went to this place called 'rehab' and Lesile said I shouldn't worry because thats where people go to feel better." Jason crouched down.

"Marrisa, that is  _amazing_! And since you six, and  _basically_ an adult, I'm giving you a job."

"What kind of job?!"

'You are going to be our  _escort_ to Gabby, okay?"

"Because even the powerful Red Hood needs protecting?"

"Because even the powerful Red Hood needs protecting." The little girl darted into the crowd, and Jason and Andrey rushed after her, to a teenaged girl sitting alone at a lunch table. 

"Marissa, you did amazing! Know this new guy doesn't know the ropes of the shelter. You wanna be his bodyguard and show him what they are?"

"Yeah!" The little girl snatched Andrey's wrist and ran, like Lightening McQueen on a caffeine high, towards her next target. Jason slipped next to the girl.

"Hey Gabby."

"Hey." She mumbled.

"How's your week been?"

"Okay, I guess." Her dark hair cascaded in front of her face.

"Is the counseling helping?"

"Yeah, yeah. Mrs Anderson's helping."

"I'm glad."

"Do the police have any leads on who did it?" Jason sighed. He picked Gabby from the aftermath of a rape, and brought her here. When he notified the police, he learnt that it was probably part of a serial targeting young Gothamite woman, especially those on the streets. 

"No." Gabby looked down.

"Hey," he grabbed her chin. "I'll find the son of a bitch who did this to you an put a bullet in his brain, alright?"

"Okay." They sat in silence. 

"Jason's phone started buzzing.

"Roy, why are yo-?"

"You need to leave."

"Wait, Roy what?"

"Gotham, you need to go."

" _Why_?"

"The Leagues here." The color slid out of Jason's face.

"How do you know?"

"One of Lian's friends texted her." Jason didn't know if he should be relieved or angry.

"Why are you trusting an eleven year old boy on info like this?"

"Because it's  _also_ all over the news!"

"I'm on my way home, call Kori." He looked apologetically at Gabby.

"I'm sorry, I gotta run." She shrugged. 

"You've got a night job, go."

So he did. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, whats up? If you're wondering, Andrey is an OC sent to me by the incredible Knightwolf. Applause for Knightwolf!
> 
> Anyways, whats up? What did you think of this chapter?
> 
> I'M ASKING A LITERATURE QUESTION THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER! What do you think the theme is?
> 
> I'm also trying to add in more powerful lines, you just feel a line thats sUPER POWERFUL, please share with the class. 
> 
> And as always, have a decent day :)!
> 
> -Spice


	5. When the Lights Fade Out, All the Sinners Crawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting, A flashback, and an introduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Imagine Dragons (they're an awesome band, okay) song Demons.

They met at the apartment, grim-faced and battle ready. 

"They've got Gotham on lockdown! The JL is searching the streets for you, Jay." Roy said, as he nervously twirled his fingers.

"Why are they hunting you Jason?" Kori was still in her trainer uniform, biceps flexing and unflexing. 

"Like fuck I know!" Jason wanted to rip his hair out, his brown skin paling the more he clenched his hands. "God, I got a tip the League of Assassins was lookin to come to Gotham, but how would the league know that? Jason wondered.

"I was a spy for the JL once, they probably have more heroes on the inside." Roy said, as he rested his hand upon Lian's shoulder. He didn't know what to do, they League of Assassins  _saved_ Jason and restored his memory. Made him more than just a memorial. 

Jason couldn't help but remember of when he first met the Assassin's ringmaster, Ra's al Ghul. 

* * *

 

**The League of Assassins' Lazarus Pit**

**3 years ago**

Jason wasn't sure how he should feel about the cave. Or the candles. Or the cult robes. Or the toxic green looking pit in the middle of said cave. 

It was quite a day for Jason.

He'd had his so called 'father' up and replace him, like some children's toy. He'd had one of those blinding headaches and fever dream's about a boy he didn't know. And then, Jason was kidnapped by a bunch of psycho murderers, who brought their katana's on a plane. The psycho's took off all his clothes-fuck, _ew,_ they could at least buy him dinner first-and wrapped him like a mummy. Jason heard the light footsteps of a woman-probably the crazy Katana leader-lady-walk beside his head. 

"Are you ready father?" Another set of feet, even softer than the lady's. The woman spoke in whispers, as of she didn't want the rest of the room to see what she was doing. The onlookers were eerily silent. 

"Yes, of course." The man's voice was gravely, old. Dangerous. He cleared his throat, and even though Jason has never seen or spoken to the man, it seemed like an oddly human thing for the man to do. 

"Let us begin!" The man shouted. There was a cheer, like a thousand-voiced battle cry. It was as if Jason was surrounded by starving Lions. There were drums, their loud noise filling the large cave. Ba-dum-dum-dum-dum-da, aa-dum-dum-dum-dum-da. 

"Children! Today we gather together, to watch this man feel true power!" Jason did not like the sound of that. "The power, of  _The Lazarus Pit_!" 

The drums kept beating. Ba-dum-dum-dum-dum. 

"The pit, the future of Zinthos!" Another cheer.

Ba-dum-dum-dum-dum-da.

"The pit, the path to Metrion!" The voices rallied again.

Ba-dum-dum-dum-dum-da.

"The pit, the Bridge to Azarath!" The yelling was deafening, the lions were attacking.

The stretcher-like thing Jason was lying on was heaved up, and Jason tried to thrash. He was tied down. 

 _Help!_ Jason felt like he did in the dream, the one with the cruel man with the green hair and red lips; The one where the man beat a colorful with a crowbar, as the boy screamed for help. The one where he tied the boy down and yelled "No one's coming for ya, baby bird!" 

The one where the boy felt helpless as he watched the seconds count down. 

"The pit will help this boy remember!"  _No!_ Jason wanted to scream.  _I don't need to remember anything!_

He kept getting paraded forward. He felt heat of his cheek, like the heat of fire. But this heat was too hot and too cruel.

"Abd-al-Matin. Stop." They stopped. "Share the story of the pit!"

"Millennia ago, there was a thriving realm called Azarath." Abd-al-Matin's voice was captivating, even to Jason. "On Arazath, lived a young priestess. Arella. Arella of Azarath was  _beautiful_. She attracted complements from all her fellow priestess, and looks from all of the creatures she summoned. The priestesses of Azarath summon the demon king, Trigon of Metrion. Trigon of Metrion was enchanted by Arella's limitless beauty, and had to have her. Arella was impregnated with his child, the first half-demon. Arella did not want the baby, and was going to use the magic of Azarath and the priestesses to kill it. Trigon was enraged, and decimated everyone in the realm besides Arella. Arella birthed his child, and then he killed her. Only to keep her body in a glass coffin next to his throne in his realm, Metrion!" 

Jason wanted to throw up, but Abd-al-Matin was not finished. 

"The Lazarus Pit is a gift sent to us by the final breath's of Arella! The army we needed, to stop the prophesied Rising of Trigon! But the Demon King found out about Arella's second betrayal, and cursed the bathers of the waters to not only heal as Arella intended, but to send a demon to the body. When the demon takes over, you will experience the bloodlust of Trigon!" The man took a deep breath. "But, one bather's demon will be the child of Trigon. The Peaceful One's demon, the child of Arella! Never to experience bloodlust, and destined to save us from Trigon. Which is why we bathe our children," the crowd shouted again. "And we bathe our new members in the tears of Arella, to save our realm!" The battle cries of the crowd could've deafened Jason. It was as if he was at a sports game where all the spectators were part of a ninja cult. 

"FOR ARELLA!" The cult shouted, and Jason felt his stretcher-thing fall. Down, down, down, down down. Jason was going to die, the 'tears of Arella' were going to kill him. He just wanted to go home, wee was gong to di-

It's funny, how when you're in pain you're like a ghost. Disconnected and dissociative, even though every single one of your nerves were lighting up, when you are in so much pain you can't cry. He was floating in the water, toxic green flooding his eyes. His nose was being fill by the stuff. It hurt, he was being boiled alive. The liquid rushed around the bandages. The world was slow, there was no sense of time inside the pit. The boiling seas of the Lazarus pit spiraled against his skin, whirlpools against his tender flesh. The water pulled him, guiding him upright and then shooting him out of the pit. He was no longer screeching against the waters, he was exposed to air and let out a holy wail. He kept screaming, and screaming, and  _screaming_. Jason had lost control over his mouth, his vocal cords, his throat. All he could do was screaming in the boiling dying tears of Arella of Azarath.

And, Jason would never tell anyone, but he swore he could hear laughter from inside the pit.

* * *

 

There was an assassin at the window. 

Not any assassin, no. Jason would't let an  _amateur_ assassin to his window. It was the crazy katana lady, Talia al Ghul. Her dark hair was cut from the last time Jason had seen her, up to her shoulder blades now. She had gun's in her  _many_ holsters on the belt of the catsuit she was wearing. Talia looked every bit as dangerous as she was. To Jason, the usual comforting sound of the constant sirens just seemed too loud. Roy walked over and let in the stray assassin.

"Jason Todd."

"You've got a lot of fucking nerve to show up right now, Talia."

"Mr Harper, Cheshire's in town." Roy looked vaguely uncomfortable, not sure how to handle his old flame whenever her saw her. Jason knew that Roy was proud to have rekindled a friendship with his child's mother, but the man still found it incredibly awkward whenever they crossed paths. His only consolation was Kori's constant support and lack of jealously whenever he met Jade Nguyen, the Cheshire Cat. 

"Talia. What. Do. You. Want?" Jason growled as he turned his body to face her. "I suppose it's about the League being in Gotham?" Talia looked as close to apologetic as Talia could be. 

"I need a favor."

“Jason, please? I’m begging you Jason Todd! Do me this favor!”

“Why? I don’t owe you a damn thing, Talia al Ghul!”

“Then…! Then don’t do it for me! Do it for my  _ son _ , Jason!”

“The Demon Kid Ra’s wouldn’t shut up about?”

“Yes.” Talia al Ghul looked at Jason more intensely than she ever had for a mission, a hit, or for her own  _ father _ . In that moment, Jason realized something. 

Her son was the only person Talia loved more than herself.

“You know, I tried my damndest to raise him.” The assassins had tears streaking her face, the only emotion Talia allowed herself to show was desperation for her son.   
“I’ll give you information. There are traitors in the league, people who want to bring upon the rise of Trigon. My Damian isn’t safe.” She sobbed. Jason knew she was desperate, she’d do something,  _ anything _ to save her son. “You know, I actually tried. When it was time to throw Damian into that God awful pit, I didn’t. I took another boy and threw him in.” She looked at them desperately. “Roy, you’re a father! You understand! Cheshire tries too, even if she threw Lian in the Pit. I.... I just want what’s best for my son.” She looked at Jason again.  “It’s too late for me to be a good person, but not for Damian. Please Jason, I’m begging you.”

Jason sighed. “Okay.”

* * *

 

Even if no one would ever know, even if Talia was considered a 'villain', even though she would never be buried with the public honors of the Justice League, Talia saved her son. In that moment, Talia al Ghul showed the world, even if it was just one person, one twelve-year-old girl, what it was to be a true hero. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who added plot stuff?! (You might not get it now, but whatever).   
> BTW, the other language from the other chapter was Portuguese, from google translate, as english is my first (and only) language.
> 
> IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT YOU SHOULD'T LOOK OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> I have more story than what I can probably fit in this story. So I'm gonna ask, opinion's on sequels? 
> 
> Thought's on the chapter? Any theories you would like to share? Have you cried at all in this story (because if you haven't..................just you wait ;3)
> 
> MORE IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS BECAUSE I GUESS IT'S A PLURAL NOW!!!!!!!!!!!  
> my updates are gonna be slower. Compare to last..............
> 
> Wait hold up. Have I been writing this for less than a fucking week? Shit I'm a Hard Working Person, yessiry.   
> Anyways, I feel like it might be a bad Idea to disclose but I also think it's a bad idea to go to science class, and that's working out pretty well (no it's not my teacher's a fucking dick). I was on the glorious Spring Break, the One Break you get to relax during that's smashed right in-between Pressuring Children To Figure How The Actual Fuck They're Going To Get In All Their High School Credits week and Holy Shit This Test Is Not Graded But Because You Go To An Academically Prided SchoolTM With People Who Take Everything Way To Seriously Because The School District Has A Stick Up It's Ass Until The 9th Grade, You Will Be Banned From Living If You Fail State Testing month. In case you couldn't tell, I registered for High School.  
> Sigh.  
> That was a Fucking Terrifying week because I Did Not Know what the fuck to do for my electives. I signed up for Pre-AP history and Challenge ELA. because I'm decent at both of them.   
> By the way, just to prove the unofficial school modo is "Score High and get High" we-as a class of like thirty people who all had to agree-have decided that To Kill A Mockingbird and Shrek have the same plot and characters but green.   
> Anyways, my other elective is Journalism (no one at the school even knows we have a fucking school paper why is it even a class) because I'm a Decent Writer and it gets in two of my high school credits.   
> My school is full of a bunch of high nerds.   
> No joke, in my first period these two girls walked in (white girls, crop-tops and Starbucks, as every other white girl in my school. Except me, because I can't fucking Caffeine) and one of them (my table mate) was like "I hate being sober, but it's part of me being an adult I guess." and then, in the beginning of class, her friend hands her a weed brownie.   
> I didn't tell the teacher. Like I know drugs and shit is dangerous, but they were part of the White Girl Clan and I-much like the rest of the school-did not have the courage, want, or willpower to deal with them.   
> But, uh, drugs are bad and dope is nope.   
> But I was totally just like, okay. The girl next to me is totally high and google is going to teach me about the Lewis and Clark expedition while I hear children yelling at teachers across the hall.  
> Ahh, the American public school system. Kindergarteners are bullies and the high schoolers just Can't anymore. 
> 
> I feel like I had a point somewhere, but then I lost it. Also Abd-al-Matin is Knightwolf's other OC that they sent me. He will be making more appearances, so applause to Knightwolf. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, I remember my point. I will be updating less frequently because of the Horror of Fucking School, so expect maybe one to two updates a week instead of a day. 
> 
> AND AS ALWAYS! HAVE A DECENT DAY!
> 
> -Spice


	6. Now Remember When I Told You, That's The Last You'll See Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet a new character, introduce some old, a new perspective, as the story unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from I Bet My Life by Imagine Dragons

There are two leagues in the world, a league of Justice and a league of assassins. That's how it always is, that's how it's always been and that's how it will always be. 

No matter how much Gracie would like it not to be true. 

Gracie Jamboree is a villain, because she could never be a hero. Not with powers like hers. Deadly, corrosive blasts that rust buildings and kill people. She is a villain. 

When They let her out of the testing room, out of testing, out of her painful existence, she would talk to Ulysses, the one person who has never hurt her. Ulysses would pull out his phone and update her on the important proceedings of the Justice League. She'll never forget one conversation with Ulysses, the one that shaped her whole being. 

"Hello Ulysses."

"Hello Gracie. I assume you're here for JL?"

"Whats 'JL'? I'm her for the Justice League!"

"Of course, here." At that point, Ulysses handed her his phone, the one he snuck into work just for her. He did everything for her. 

She spent quite a few moments browsing though this application called 'YouTube', scrounging for any more information about the Justice League. Gracie was waiting for the day that she would be in one of the videos with the Justice League.

"Hey, Ulysses?"

"What's up kiddo?"

"Why does the Justice League save people?" The man laughed.

"Because they're heroes of course!" Gracie was still confused. What's a hero? Was it a disease, a genetic mutation? Was it a lifestyle choice, like the 'vegans' one of the other guards constantly made fun of? Was it a race? What was a hero?

"What's a hero, Ulysses?" Ulysses looked at her.

"It's someone with powers." Ah, so it  _is_ a genetic mutation. "Someone who doesn't kill. They're the heroes." Gracie though the definition of being a hero was fairly loose, so there must be many heroes running around and saving people. She wondered why she wasn't in one of the newsreels if there were so many heroes. 

Ulysses continued talking, interrupting Gracie's inner musing. "But, there are people people with powers who aren't heroes. They do bad things like kill, and heroes never kill."

_Heroes never kill_

Gracie was hauled back to her lab table once more, the routine continued. She still came to Ulysses, and-albeit with  _considerably_ less excitement-still watched the Justice League save everyone. Save everyone except Gracie Jamboree. 

It didn't matter, because in a few short years the scientists experimenting on her finally reached their goal. 

They had created a superhuman. 

Gracie was a hero, until she wasn't. She broke one of the two rules. When Gracie first got her powers, she killed everyone in the facility when this black cloud emitted from all around her and killed everyone. It was because Gracie was sad.

When she ran out of her testing room, she found Ulysses dead body slumped on the floor.

 _She_ killed him.

The world was silent, her head hurt. There was something lodged in her throat, except that it was empty.  _Emotion_ , her brain supplied.  _Emotion was choking her_.  _Emotion_ , her brain supplied _. Emotion killed him._

 _ **You** killed him_.

Gracie felt everything and nothing at once, she was as high as a kite and as low as bedrock. There were so many contradictions in her mind she screamed, even though she didn't hear it. She could only hear the silence without Ulysses. Ulysses, the first person to ever care about her. 

She was surrounded by black fog, the toxic fog that killed him. 

Gracie's father was a bastard. A bastard, asshole, motherfucker that gave away her mother's child to illegal human experimentation when her mother died giving birth to her. But her father was an abuser, not a villain. Not like her. 

Gracie promised herself she would be  _better_ than that sperm donor, that she would be a  _good person_.

A good person like Ulysses. 

Gracie ran, and she didn't care where she ran too. As long as she kept running, she could pretend that running from herself was working. She could pretend that herself wasn't following. 

It was funny, wasn't it? That she could never be a hero, so she had to be a villain.

It was funny, wasn't it? That a villain just killed her hero.

* * *

 

 

Roy learnt that Gotham was shutdown, no way in and no way out. The Justice League was trying to catch the League of Assassins, and oh, lookie here! The Red Hood. 

Awesome, wonderful! Roy  _loved_ being locked in a city fully of insane killers and his adoptive father. 

He had heard the Green Arrow,  _his adoptive father_ , shoot arrows for the past hour. The hero did not make Roy feel safe, in fact, The Green Arrow made Roy feel quite terrified. 

Damian al Ghul  _did not_ make him feel any better. In fact, Damian al Ghul made him feel  _worse_. 

First of all, Roy would like Damian to get  _the fuck_ away from his daughter, please and thank you. And it wasn't in the 'he is a boy, and I am papa bear' no, he knocked a girl up at fourteen, (granted, Jade  _wasn't_ fourteen at the time, but that didn't matter) so his opinion didn't hold much value in that subject. No, he wanted the kid away from Lian because of the dangerous, animalistic look in his eyes. Cold and calculated with a reserved fire, and Roy was sure that the fire was  _straight_ from Hell. That, and he had two very sharp katana's just sitting on his back. Like they were  _toys_.

No, Roy  _did not_ want Damian al Ghul anywhere Lian, not at all.

But it's not like he got a lot of say in that decision. Talia was from Jason's past, and from what he heard, was one of the lights in all the bullshit that was Jason's past. And all the fucking crap Jason had to deal with for Roy during his falling out with Oliver, Roy felt that Jason deserved to keep his healthy relationship with Talia, even if it did mean 'adopting' her terrifying demon-child.  _But_ , that did in  _no means_ meant that Roy would accept this with his mouth silent and hands down. 

He pulled aside Jason.

"Why  _the fuck_ did you agree to housing a  _Hell-spawn_ in _our house?_!" Roy hissed, and he cast his piercing eyes upon _the boy_.

"Hey, hey man? I..I _need_ this, okay? Are you down?"

Roy sighed. "Its fine, just...yeah, okay." He looked towards  _the boy_ innocently caressing his katana's blade. "Fine, we can keep  _the boy_. Just  _no funny_ _business_. If that  _boy_ tries anything I will boil his  _eyeballs_."

"He won't let his katana's get X rated around Lian, okay Roy?" 

"Okay,  _fine_." Roy cast one last look of distain towards  ~~ _the bo_~~ - ** _Damian_** , sneered, and looked back towards Lian. 

After all, how owed this to Jason. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, about last chapters note, I needed to get that out. That was my Rant, okay?
> 
> BUT YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE ABOUT LAST CHAPTER?!   
> I'm not actually gonna make a sequel, I'm going to make this a Mega Story. so expect 40+ chapters. (fuck, I get anxiety about what I'm going to put myself through just WRITING one of the parts, I can't think of what you'll feel reading about it for the first time, shit)  
> BTW, if anyone wants to make any art for this story........... please? God, I feel cocky saying that but you people have kind of made a community? (Haha, my master plan! A fandom for a fanfiction, I've reached Metalevels of fan love -insane cackling-) But seriously, if you guys want to make something, do it! Okay, I got that cleared up. Not that there was like, anything to clear up but that had been a Thought I'd Had. 
> 
> Umm, I guess I should apologize for any emotional distress, so sorry I guess?
> 
> What did you guys think of Gracie? Sad badass, am I right? 
> 
> Comment on what you thought when reading this chapter, it makes me feel happy (and update faster) especially when you comment on like, how you interpreted the plot, I guess? Writing is an art, it's up for personal opinion. I'm curious to know yours.
> 
> And as always, have a decent day!
> 
> -Spice


	7. roll up, roll up

Damian al Ghul was a prince. 

A prince and a coward.

How? How, you're wondering, is Damian al Ghul a prince and a coward? He was the heir to the League of Assassins! To the monsters under your bed, to the shadows in your closet.

He was the heir to Lazarus, he was the prince of Arella! It never mattered that he was never thrown into the pit, like the other children. It didn't matter, he was able to survive the rigorous training of Ra's al Ghul, without the healing, without the endurance, without the impenetrability or the strength. He was a  _prince_ , his future was promised in kingdoms and blood. 

He was a coward. 

A betrayer to the League's ideals, Brave thy children, Brave thy ruler!  _Fortem fortibus tuum filii princeps tuum!_

But in every good king, there is a traitor, according to his grandfather. There is no 'model citizen' in the model royal so a prince must clear his face and just keep living. The only rule of the League that Ra's made him follow was to stay alive. And so he did. 

He closed his eyes and wiped the blood off his sword. He was his mothers child. 

Being a coward is not  _honorable_ , it is not  _desirable_ or  _glamorous._ There is no honor in cowardice and Damian's mother had taught him long ago that there is no honor in being dead, so he did the smart thing. He ran.

Ran from hit's gone wrong, ran from angry employers, ran from his grandfather. He'd even ran from himself. 

A prince is a traitor and being honorable equals being dead, and Damian did not fancy being a bloody corpse. 

He was prince, it was in his blood. 

His blood painted the walls of his house, he spilt the blood of his enemies. He got his blood spilt in return. 

It was all beautiful karma. 

 

\---------------------------

 

There was a demon child living in his house. 

_His house!_

Jason owns a lot of shit, but he splurged with Kori and Roy, and bought a nice apartment.  _That does not need a demon child, thank you!_

But Jason agreed to this, it was partly his fault that Damian Al Ghul is a permeant resident in house a la Todd. Still, that did not calm Jason's anger at the first words out of the demons mouth. 

"The tiling is shit, Todd." Oh, so  _that's_ how this is gonna be.

"You're too young to say that!"

"I have reached thirteen years of age, I am perfectly capable of saying shit."

"If you're so old, why don't you go be a fucking adult and get the fuck out of my house?"

" _Gladly_ Todd. Unfortunately, Mother insisted that I reside here until I come of age for you Americans." The boy sniffed. 

_Sniffed!_

"Now listen, you entitled brat-!"

"I can kill seventeen different ways with a colored pencil, so I would suggest you treat me with a semblance of respect,  _Todd._ " You could cut the tension with a knife. 

God, Jason just got threatened by a thirteen-year-old.  _A thirteen-year-old!_

He regretted his life choices. 

For the next hour, the Demon-Child nested on his couch. 

Like a fucking  _bird._

Then Lian walked in, saw the Demon-Child, had this terrifying excited look on her face and said:

"I'm Jared, I'm nineteen, and i never fucking learned how to read." 

"What is this  _idiocy-_ " Lian gasped. 

"You don't know  _Vines!?_ Jason, leave. I have to train this ignorant child."

"I can cut off your air supply and kill you."

" _Please_ do."

"Lian,  _why_?" Children were so confusing these days. 

" _Leave_ Jason."

He left, afraid of children.

\-----------------------------

 

The scene was brutal. 

There wasn't anything clean about murder, but this was especially gruesome. Men lay on the ground, blood pooled in puddles, corpses stacked one on top of the other. 

"You did good today Gracie. Efficient scene. We're sending the message." Gracie Jamboree looked at her carnage, disgusted with herself. 

But she can't do anything about it. 

Gracie Jamboree is a villain, and she wished to God she wasn't.

 


End file.
